Anne Winchell - The Last War

Medane entered the slums in díamont form and scanned for life. There were plenty of survivors in the buildings, but none came out into the street. He longed to collect the survivors and get them proper medical attention, but he knew they would resist. These were not the grateful survivors from the center of NeoLondon. These were rebels, who thought any government interference—even much needed medical aid—had strings attached. He had come with doctors who waited near the helicopters hoping survivors would emerge and ask for help, but he had little hope any would avail themselves. The people of the slums were proud people, and hated the government with a fury that he had never understood.

He went to the largest concentration of people without hesitation. Surely Nalia would be there. He had received an unusual request from Lethe. Raven had been asking about Nalia. Since there was no communication in the slums, he had to go in person to make sure that she was all right. He wasn’t sure why Raven was so concerned, but he was glad that the boy cared about her so much. Raven had shown no signs of interest in anyone else his entire life, always pushing people away rather than inviting them in, but Nalia was different.

Perhaps it was because they were so similar, Medane thought. Nalia was like a younger version of Raven, before he had fallen prey to the cynicism that corrupted the world. She represented the pure idealism that had once been Raven’s best quality, and being around her was bringing that quality to the surface in him. Medane was grateful; he had watched Raven’s slide into corruption with a great deal of doubt and guilt. He knew he was responsible for most of it, especially since he had tried to bribe Raven to capture the díamont. He wanted Raven to be free and independent, but the world—and Atheus—didn’t allow for it, so Medane had chained him down and watched as Raven slowly grew to accept his limitations. Nalia was good for him.

Kaela would have been good for him, too, Medane thought, but not in the same way. Kaela had accepted her gilded cage and she would have encouraged Raven to do the same. Perhaps it was better that Raven had chosen Nalia over Kaela, even if it meant the end of the superhuman experiment.

As Medane reached the building with the highest concentration of people, a survivor stepped outside to face him. He admired her courage. She wore a scarf to cover her injuries but it was obvious she hadn’t found shelter in time. She, like most of the people in the slums who mistrusted the government, hadn’t paid attention to the sirens warning the people of the impending nuclear strike. She was just lucky to be far enough from the epicenter to be alive.

“What do you want?”

“I’m here to check on Nalia. I have a message from Raven.”

He didn’t have a message, but he added the last because he thought it would help him get in easier. He knew Raven had a long and confusing history with the rebellion, but he had been helping the rebellion at the end and surely mentioning him would be to Medane’s advantage.

“What did you do to her?”

Medane paused. “Is something wrong with her?”

Raven’s request began to take on a new meaning. Did Raven know something about Nalia that no one else did? Did he know that something had happened to her? Was that why Raven had forced Lethe to ask Medane about her?

“You can come in, but only if you help my people.”

“Of course,” Medane said. “I have doctors and supplies at my helicopters.”

At least some good would come of this, he thought as he followed the woman into the dark building. Power was out, he thought idly as he pushed past bleeding and festering individuals to a back room. It must have been due to the traditional bombs Atheus had dropped, because the nuclear blast didn’t affect most of the power in the downtown district. It had been eerie walking through the empty streets while pre-programmed ads ran along the buildings beside him, but the traditional bombs had hit the outlying areas and it was no surprise power was out here.

No one was in the room except for Nalia, lying on a cot white as death. Medane dropped to his knee beside her and reached for her hand, then realized he was in díamont form. He wouldn’t be able to feel her pulse.

“I need a few minutes alone with her,” he said.

“No. I stay here.”

Medane silently cursed. He did not want to be vulnerable with a rebel standing by, but he needed to transform in order to assess Nalia’s condition. With a grimace, he became a human and heard the woman gasp. She made no move to kill him, however. He held Nalia’s wrist and counted her heartbeats. Too slow. She was cold to the touch, but not dead.

Oddly, her body seemed to heat up the closer he got to her wrist, or at least the wrist with the bracelet. Almost as if the bracelet were causing the illness. He touched the bracelet and a shock ran through him as the metal hungrily licked through him, desperate for him. He pulled away quickly. It was definitely the bracelet, he decided. The bracelet must have been designed to destroy díamont DNA, just like Lethe did. If Medane touched it for long enough, he would die. Nalia was lasting longer because she had less díamont DNA, but it was still stealing her life and wreaking havoc on her body. How could he possibly stop it?

He nursed the hand that had touched the bracelet and realized it was scorched and blistering, like the survivors. The woman was looking at him oddly, or perhaps it was just that the usual hate in her eyes was gone.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Yes. I need to get her better medical care immediately.”

“She doesn’t leave.”

Medane stared at the woman, then shrugged. There was probably nothing his doctors could do, and if keeping Nalia here kept the rebels happy, so be it. He was more concerned with how to relay this information to Raven without setting the boy into action. Who knew what Raven would do if he found out that his love was near to death and there was unlikely to be a cure?

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Kaela entered the parking garage just in time to see Raven finish breaking into a car. She sauntered up to him, trying to look casual, but her heart was pounding. It had taken all of her skill to lose her guards and she knew there was only a short time to convince Raven to take her with him before the guards found them.

“I’m going to find a cure for Nalia. Atheus knows something, I just know it. I have to meet with him.”

He got in the driver’s side and started the engine.

“I’m going with you,” she said, getting in the other side of the car that had automatically unlocked. “You’d better leave soon if you don’t want them to stop us.”

“You can’t come. It’s too dangerous.”

“Not too dangerous for you.”

Raven appeared torn, and she understood why. He was going because he loved Nalia and he would do anything for her. What he didn’t understand was that Kaela loved him in a way she loved no one else, and she would not let him walk into danger alone. Perhaps he didn’t love her the way she loved him, but she loved him just the same. She would not let him face Atheus alone. No one should be alone.

Raven put the car into reverse and pulled out, accepting her into his runaway plan. Not a moment too soon, because she saw shadows approaching in the garage. She knew they wouldn’t try to stop them once they reached the edge of the embassy. The guards were for their protection, a courtesy, and if Raven and Kaela wanted to ditch that courtesy there was little Lethe could do. It wasn’t a military base, after all.

The car was an old fuel-cell but it looked like it had enough fuel to reach Seattle. Driving at full speed with minimal stops, they ought to reach the abandoned city in three days. She knew Raven would be sticking to the public highways rather than the more protected roads because he wanted speed, and she didn’t think any of Atheus’s people would try to stop them on the way. If she offered to drive while he slept, they might even get there sooner. She shivered at the thought of going into Seattle, so close to her old home in Portland.